


Clark and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

by sofia_gigante



Series: Dark Knight, Bright Son [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Clark can't catch a break, Fluff, Humor, M/M, SuperBat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofia_gigante/pseuds/sofia_gigante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your birthday falls on leap day, you try to make it count. Too bad the universe has other plans for Clark this birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clark and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Clark和他那个糟糕可怕一无是处差劲透顶的生日](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367667) by [ginettecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginettecat/pseuds/ginettecat)



> Big thanks to Selofain for the beta-read!
> 
> It's a few weeks late for Clark's actual birthday, but hey...it's kind of in line with the theme of this fic. :P

It was, by far, the worst birthday that Clark had ever had.

Not that he had many actual birthdays to compare it to. Since his birthday fell on February 29—leap day—he’d only ever been able to celebrate his real birthday a handful of times. Though, if he wanted to get even more technical, February 29 wasn’t even his birthday—it was the day his parents had found his crashed ship in their cornfield. So perhaps he should call it his Landing Day.

This year, it was a Crash Landing Day.

The day began to go wrong the moment Clark was awoken by a call from Bruce—he had to cancel their early-morning breakfast date at the last minute. An emergency meeting had been called by the board of Wayne Enterprises to deal with a potential embezzler on the staff, and Bruce had to be there in person. It normally wouldn’t have been a big deal to push their date back, except that Clark had an impossibly full docket at the _Daily Planet_ —the state’s presidential primaries were being held that day, and Clark, Lois, and a few other staff reporters were assigned to cover them across the state. Lois was handling the up-to-the-minute coverage in Metropolis, while Clark was tasked with compiling something for the morning edition from all the different reports. He’d never covered a primary before, so Clark wanted to be at the 9 a.m. meeting Perry was holding to go over the details. Clark would be booked solid until he got off work—late—around 7 p.m. Which would be a perfectly reasonable time for dinner with Bruce, except dinner had been off the table as soon as Clark had suggested it.

_“It’s leap day, Clark,”_ Bruce had said apologetically, _“and Calendar Man escaped from Arkham Asylum in the last break out. I have to stay. I’m…I’m sorry.”_

That was that, then. Batman would be on high alert in Gotham, which meant Clark was on his own for the night. He thought about maybe asking Lois if she wanted to go see a movie with him after the elections, but she’d probably think he was asking for a date and turn him down. Instead, he decided he was going to fly back to Smallville to surprise his parents for the evening. They were one hour behind Clark, so 6 p.m. wouldn’t be unreasonable for visiting.

With that back-up plan in mind to cheer him, he’d continued on his day as usual.

Except nothing went as usual.

First, the coffee place he frequented messed up his order for his free birthday coffee, and Clark didn’t have time to wait for them to remake it.  He tried to choke down the cloying triple-shot caramel mocha, but it was just too much. He was just about to throw it in the trash when someone rushing down the steps to the subway bumped into him hard, making him miss his shot into the can. The nearly-full cup hit the ground, splashing sticky coffee across his shoes and up his pant legs. He cursed audibly. He had no time to go home and change at normal speed, and it was far too crowded here to jet away at super-speed or fly off. He was stuck like this for the day. Great.

Next, he missed his train by seconds, the doors slamming shut right in his face as he got to them. He was so frustrated he seriously considered just prying them open with his super-strength, but checked himself at the last minute. Instead, he let the train go, trying hard not to get impatient. The next train to downtown Metropolis was only in seven minutes.

On top of a fifteen-minute delay.

Clark showed up thirty minutes late to the office, reeking of coffee and caramel. Clark received a hard, disapproving look from Perry and an annoyed eye-roll from Lois. They broke up the meeting just as Clark found a seat. So. No surprise office party, then. Not that he figured anyone would know it was his birthday in the first place. He tried to clean himself up as best he could in the men’s room, then got ready to head out to the polls with Lois. He may have missed the meeting, but Clark was going to do his job as best he could.

Unless, of course, an army of explosive wind-up toys flooded downtown Metropolis. That was a job for Superman.

It took longer than he had hoped to clean up the Toyman’s mess, but no sooner had he finished that his super-hearing picked up a collective call for help clear across the globe. So, off he’d gone—state primaries or no—figuring from the screams and rumbling sounds that he’d be needed to help with post-earthquake rescue.

It wasn’t an earthquake. It was a swarm of huge, horse-sized ants emerging from underground tunnels.

Really? Giants _ants_? Someone read too many comic books.

Superman managed to divert the swarm back to their subterranean lair, where he was able to shrink them back to normal size using the sizing ray that had grown them in the first place. Then he chased down the crazed scientist who had caused the chaos in the first place and dropped her off with the local authorities. It took much longer than he had hoped.

With only an hour left to make his deadline, Clark zipped back to his Metropolis apartment. From there, he could access the email reports sent to him by the correspondents in the field, them bang out the article on his home laptop using his super-speed. He sped-read through the data, but when time came to type it all up his stress got the better of him and he crushed the “R” and “O” keys on the computer when on his second paragraph.

Why, why, _why_ did he leave his kryptonite ring at Bruce’s?

He changed back into Superman, flew back to the _Planet_ , transformed back into Clark, and ran for his desk. Struggling to keep himself from getting too agitated, he managed to finish the article and was about to upload it…when he saw that someone had already put up the coverage he’d been assigned. Lois.

When he confronted her, she just gave him a piercing look. “You should be thanking me for covering your ass, Kent. You went AWOL at the primaries as soon as those dumb toys showed up. Someone had to be brave enough to stay and get the real news out, and not just about how Superman saved the day.” She turned back to her desk. “By the way, Perry wants _that_ story from you ASAP.”

He was fuming so much that it took him twice as long as usual to write the extra piece, and by the time he’d left the _Planet_ it had been near nine o’clock. It was too late to go see his parents, even at eight p.m. their time. They would be in bed within the hour. He hadn’t even had time to check the voicemail they’d left on his phone. Oh well.

He had decided to try to salvage what was left of his birthday by treating himself to Thai take-out. He could eat it at home while catching up on _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ on Netflix. Bruce hated that show—he found it silly and unrealistic—so Clark only got to watch it when he was alone.

Clark had just picked up his order to go when his super-hearing picked up another, desperate call for help—from the International Space Station.

Really? Would this day never end?

It was near dawn when he drifted back to his secret changing spot a few blocks from his Metropolis apartment. He was bruised, aching, and exhausted. It had been a hell of a fight against the alien android army that had attempted to siege the station, but he’d finally neutralized the master-mind by flying straight into its core and tearing out its power source. The clean-up had been what had taken the longest, gathering each and every bit of robot rubble and throwing it into the sun. It wouldn’t do to leave it floating about in space and potentially damaging the station or any nearby satellites.

He groaned when he walked into his apartment and saw the clock on the wall. He had to be at work in two hours. He didn’t need sleep, but still, some time to himself would’ve been nice after the day he had.

Clark was already pulling his shirt off as he walked into his bedroom, and he was so distracted by his frustration that he didn’t notice the figure sitting on the bed until he turned on the light.

“Jesus!” Clark literally jumped.

“Surprise?” Bruce said with a chagrined little smile. He was in his black plainclothes, looking as casual as if Clark had invited him over. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“How did you…why are you…?” Clark felt utterly foolish. He’d given Bruce a key to the apartment, that how he’d gotten in. But how the heck had Clark not heard Bruce breathing in the apartment when he’d arrived home? Was he really that tired?  

“What are you doing here?” Clark asked. “Shouldn’t you be in Gotham, looking for Calendar Man?”

“I caught him already,” Bruce said with a little smirk. “He’s surprisingly predictable.” His smile waned as he took in Clark’s state. “Rough night?”

“Try rough day followed by a rough night,” Clark sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. It came away streaked with black oil. He grimaced. He needed a long, hot shower before he went to the office.

Bruce stood up and wrapped Clark in his arms. Clark instantly melted against him. He soaked up Bruce’s strength, his solid warmth, and it replenished him just as surely as sunlight.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today,” Bruce said quietly. “I wish I could’ve.”

“It’s all right. I wouldn’t have been able to spend any time with you anyway.” Clark gave a dry chuckle. “The world needs Superman, even on his birthday.” He shrugged. “I’ll have another one in four years.”

“No.” Bruce pulled back and shook his head. “it’s still your birthday.”

Clark looked at the grey light filtering in through his window. “Bruce, love, it’s over. Every time zone in the world is now on March 1.”

“It doesn’t matter. Alfred always says a day doesn’t really end until you’ve gone to sleep.” He arched a knowing brow at Clark. “And neither of us have slept yet.”

A small flame of hope lit in Clark’s heart. “I can see that. Though in that case, I’ve had whole weeks that have been single days.”

“I’ve had my share of long days, too,” Bruce said dryly, “but what matters is today. For us, it’s still February 29. So, what do you want to do, birthday boy?”

“I have work in less than two hours.”

“Call in sick.”

Clark laughed incredulously. “I can’t call in sick!”

“Why not? Do you have any meetings or deadlines?”

“Not really, but…” Maybe it was just the strain of the day, or his frustration at Lois, but truly, he couldn’t think of a single good reason not to ditch.

Bruce smiled knowingly. “Come on. I dare you, boy scout. Play hooky with me.”

Clark flushed. _Boy scout._ “Fine. But if I get fired you have to find me a new job.”

“I already have one in mind,” Bruce said lightly. “Vicki Vale is the new editor-in-chief at the _Gotham Gazette_. She’d be happy to poach you from the _Daily Planet_.”

Clark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You already have a…of course you already have a plan,” he grumbled. “All right then, Mr. ‘I-Have-A-Plan-For-Everything,’ tell me, what do you have planned for my birthday today? Whirlwind trip to Tokyo? Fancy dinner in Paris? Five hours of tie-and-tease edging?” Even just thinking about it all made Clark feel more tired. He didn’t know if he was up for anything elaborate, but he also didn’t want to disappoint Bruce if he’d gone to a lot of trouble to make Clark’s birthday special. He could play along, he supposed.

“Nothing,” Bruce said.

“Nothing?”

“The plan is to do nothing.” Bruce held Clark even closer. “How’s this: you go take a shower, and I make us breakfast. Then we sit on the couch and watch _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ until you finally figure out what’s going on with Coulson—”

“Until _I_ figure out—”

“I already know.”

“Really? You’re going to pull that detective shi—”

“I saw spoilers online, all right?” Bruce sighed. “So. Food. TV. Maybe a nap. Sex if you feel up for it. Just…nothing. Normal nothing, like—”

“Like normal people.” Clark bit his lower lip, and smiled. “I love it.”

“Good.” Bruce kissed him, then pulled away. “But really, if you want breakfast in Paris, I can do that.”

“No,” Clark laughed. “Doing nothing sounds perfect after today, and there’s no one else I’d rather do nothing with.” He thought for a second. “I have one request though.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you run out and get me a coffee from around the corner? Just a double latte. No caramel, no chocolate, no whipped cream.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow up, and sniffed. “Been wearing it long enough today?”

“You have no idea.” Clark sighed. It would feel good to slip into something more comfortable. Like sweatpants. He perked up. “Oh! Can we have Thai for lunch?”

“Anything you want, birthday boy.” Bruce kissed his forehead and gave him a little shove. “Now go take a shower. I’ll be back soon.”

As Clark headed to the bathroom, he felt a million times lighter. Leave it to Bruce to know exactly what Clark wanted for his birthday. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the worst birthday ever after all.

His phone chirped as he was waiting for the shower water to heat up. It was Bruce.

“Clark…your coffee place is closed for another hour.”

“Son of a—”


End file.
